Page 23

Chapter 23

Zeke

Piper

We really need to talk. Can we meet after your team meeting?

I agreed. We did need to talk, but reading her text still sent a jolt of fear through me. Mostly fear of the unknown. She had clearly been uncomfortable with Holden walking in on us earlier, and I was assuming the conversation would have to do with our public display of affection. But would there be more to it than that? She obviously wanted to keep whatever was going on between us discreet, but a thread of fear wrapped around my mind made me wonder if she wanted to talk about more than just that.

She hadn’t even looked at me. Did that mean all the moments we’d shared, all the feelings I’d thought she was feeling right alongside me, hadn’t meant anything? Had I been completely wrong about everything that had transpired between us? Had I been dumb enough to fall for a girl again who didn’t like me as much as I liked her?

I took a breath and tried to calm my racing mind. There was no need to get all worked up over what-ifs. I would meet with Piper and see what she had to say. Hopefully everything would be cleared up with a simple conversation.

I’d stopped listening to what Coach Hill said the moment I’d seen I had a text from Piper. My brain was too occupied with everything that had happened in the last hour, and for the first time in my life, hockey was the last thing on my mind.

Zeke

Of course. Do you want to meet me at my apartment?

Piper

Sure.

Zeke

I’ll text you when I’m leaving the arena.

I put my phone back in my pocket and tried to focus on what Coach Hill was droning on about, but all I wanted was to be dismissed so I could go see Piper.

My knee bounced impatiently as another twenty minutes went by. Something about team chemistry, maintaining discipline, important upcoming matchups, overall team culture, blah, blah, blah. When he finally said we were free to go, I bolted out of my seat, making a beeline for the door before Holden could stop me and possibly get me to second guess my feelings for Piper.

Zeke

On my way.

She sent me a thumbs up emoji as her only response. My heart sank.

I tried to think positively—maybe she wanted to talk about how she wasn’t okay with all the physical stuff if we weren’t in a committed relationship. And even though both of us had earlier proclaimed to be anti-relationship, we could talk about giving it another try with each other.

Gosh. I had fallen harder for her than I’d thought if I was thinking that positively. There was no way she would go from freaking out earlier to wanting to run into my arms and try the relationship thing with someone again.

Shoot . I slid my hand into my hair, tugging at the ends and gritting my teeth at how I couldn’t spin this upcoming talk in a good way. She was going to end things. Well, maybe not end things since nothing had officially been started, but she was going to put on the brakes.

The drive home was a blur of worries. How did I change her mind? How could I act unaffected? How could I have let myself end up in this situation a second time?

When the elevator opened on my floor, she was already there, sitting by my door.

“Hey, sorry to make you wait.” I hurried over to unlock the door as she stood up.

“It’s okay.” She still wasn’t looking me in the eyes. “I figured it would be easier to wait for you then to go all the way home and back.”

“Come in.” I let her walk past me and into the living room, letting my hockey bag drop to the floor. “Do you want anything to drink? A club soda?” Yeah, I now had club soda in my fridge because of this woman. How I’d thought I wasn’t so far gone for her was laughable.

“Um, no, thank you.” Her voice was so quiet and hollow that I wanted to pull her to me, to make her look me in the eyes, to bring back the girl from this afternoon, from last night. “I’m not going to stay long.”

Right. Of course she wasn’t.

I stood in front of her, several feet separating us, feeling more vulnerable than ever. I waited, already feeling gutted.

“Zeke,” she started, then paused. She took a deep breath, letting it out in an exhale before starting again. “You’re an amazing guy.”

I held up my hand to stop her. Not wanting to hear anymore. I was an amazing guy? Really?

“Spare me the break-up monologue.” I tried not to sound bitter, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded. “First of all, we were never together, so you don’t need to break up with me. Secondly, why don’t we actually talk about what’s going on? What has you going from being happy, kissing me, to freaking out and giving me the whole ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech?” I was failing at keeping calm. My exact reasons for never letting myself care about anyone were being shoved in my face, and I was angry at myself for having let a pair of pretty green eyes distract me from the truth. Me and any sort of relationship that could be construed as couple-hood did not go together. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. I was so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Here I was again, vulnerable, looking desperate to understand, and being rejected. At least it had been ten years since the last time. I guessed I could congratulate myself on going that long before making the same mistake twice. Now the don’t-be-stupid clock would need to be restarted.

She placed her hands on her hips, a fiery look now on her features as she matched my demeanor. I couldn’t help the way my mouth ticked up on one side at the sight of her feisty side coming out. Even frustrated, knowing she wasn’t going to choose me, I couldn’t help but like her.

“Raymond is what happened between kissing you at work and now.” Her eyes were blazing as they finally locked onto mine, but hey, she was finally really looking at me, so I was viewing it as progress.

My brow furrowed, and I searched her face. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“He pulled me into his office and told me that he saw us kiss at the gala.” She still sounded annoyed at me. “He said that dating a player is against policy and he would have to fire me if anything between you and me continues,” she said, gesturing between the two of us. “He also mentioned that he knew I’d been in a similar situation with the last team I worked for.”

Oh, shoot. That wasn’t good.

The fire in her eyes quickly dimmed and turned glassy, and my feet were already moving toward her. I gathered her up in my arms, unable to bear seeing her in pain. Thankfully she didn’t push me away and let me hold her against me, her head resting against my shoulder.

“Piper, I’m so sorry.” I gently rubbed her back. “This is all my fault.”

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes still a little watery, her fingers curled lightly around my shirt like she wasn’t ready to let go. “How is this your fault? I’m pretty sure I’m the one who initiated the kiss at the gala.”

“Maybe,” I murmured, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb, “but I was ready to kiss you as soon I saw you in that dress, so I’m pretty sure we would have kissed that night no matter what.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile. “Okay, well, I was definitely the one to kiss you in that bar in Chicago.”

“Yeah, but that was because I’d said I was your boyfriend.” I smirked, nudging her chin up with my knuckle.

She hummed, tilting her head slightly, her fingers tracing an idle pattern against my chest. “Hmm…then maybe you’re right. It is your fault.”

“Hey, now.” I squeezed her waist, my thumbs stroking absentminded circles against her ribs. “You’re not completely innocent, with those fitted scrubs you wear and the way you put your hands all over me.”

“It’s my job to have my hands on you,” she said, shaking her head, though her eyes darkened slightly. “And I always kept it appropriate. You’re the one who was always flirting with me.”

I nodded, like it had officially been decided, letting my fingers drift down her back, settling just above her hips. “See? It is my fault. Women can’t help falling for The Zeke Man.”

She laughed and smacked my chest playfully. “Oh, stop it.”

I laughed too, feeling happy in this moment with her in my arms and smiling up at me. I wanted this moment to last, not for just the next few minutes or hours, but I was quickly realizing I wanted it to last forever.

Our laughter faded, but we continued to look at each other, the silence calming as we held onto each other. Like we both knew that once we let go, we’d also be letting go of us, of whatever we could have been.

Piper was the first to break the silence. “I can’t risk losing my job. Especially over dating a hockey player. Again.”

She’d told me how much she regretted dating Jordan, and I had seen how much it hurt her that her dating history had followed her and could ruin her reputation. I didn’t want that for her. She was an amazing physical therapist, one who deserved to stay with the team—the team that had been her dream to work for. I wouldn’t risk that for her no matter how much I wanted to be with her.

“I know,” I said softly.

Relief washed over her features.

I ran my fingers through her ponytail. “So we’ll stop hanging out, stop making out, and I’ll stop checking you out.” She chuckled, and I was glad I could still make her laugh, even though this wasn’t the happiest of moments. “Actually, I don’t think I can guarantee that last one.” Which had her laughing more. “But I do think I’ll need a new physical therapist.”

“Yeah, I agree.” She nodded soberly. “I can have one of my assistants treat you. I’ll go over your treatment plan and have them do exactly what I do so you won’t have diminished therapy.”

We still clung to each other, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough to be the first one to step away. She felt too perfect against me and I wanted to revel in the feel of her in my arms as long as she would let me.

“I should probably get going,” she said, but didn’t make a move to break our embrace.

“Yeah,” I agreed, but I didn’t move either.

“You know,” she said, her fingers trailing my collar bone. “We probably wouldn’t have lasted as a couple anyway, with our shared outlook on relationships.” Her voice was almost sultry, a stark contrast to her words.

“You’re probably right.” My voice was strained as her fingers continued their path up along my neck. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I think about you.”

“Is that so?” she hummed.

As her hands began playing with the curls at the back of my neck, I let out a noncommittal moan, and my eyes drifted shut.

“I would have gotten so tired of how much I want to be wrapped in your arms.” I could hear the smile in her voice, and I assumed she liked how much she affected me.

I opened my eyes and gave her another smirk, enjoying this game we were playing. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I want to see you in my kitchen making dinner with me every night.”

She leaned in closer. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I want it to be you every time my phone buzzes with a text message.”

One of my hands slowly drifted up her back, making a path up to the back of her neck. “I would have gotten so tired of how much I enjoy kissing you.” I slowly erased the space between our mouths, taking her lips with mine.

She matched my movements, each brush of our lips, each press as we deepened the kiss. What had started as a slow show of our feelings quickly turned to hunger, both of us seeming to need more. The kiss was equal parts tender and passionate, electrifying and overwhelming, but I couldn’t deny the underlying feeling that seeped through the kiss—that we were also saying goodbye.

We both knew, as soon as this kiss ended, so did our budding relationship. We had never given “us” a label, but I guessed now we wouldn’t have to. We were over before we’d ever begun.

The longer we kissed, the more difficult it was becoming to break apart. With each press of our lips and sweep of our tongues, I kept getting pulled farther and farther into the haze that was Piper. I knew as long as I lived, I would never get tired of kissing this woman.

But no matter how much I wanted to kiss her, take care of her, be there for her, the best thing I could do for her now was to let her go.

With more self-control than I knew I had, I reluctantly broke our kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze looking exactly how I felt—like she had been pulled under, enjoying some kind of substance with no regrets about the addiction.

I forced my arms to finally release her and painfully took a step back.

“If we are going to make this work, I’m going to have to quit you cold turkey,” I confessed, my breathing still uneven, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Her brows pulled together, her lips parting slightly. “What does that mean, exactly?”

I swallowed hard, forcing the words out even as my chest ached. “We have to cut all ties. Besides an occasional hello at work, we can have no conversations, no texting, and definitely no touching.” My jaw tightened, and I dragged a shaky hand through my hair before dropping it uselessly back to my side. “I’m not strong enough, and I don’t want to risk messing things up for you.”

Her eyes roamed my face, searching, her lips pressing together like she was holding back words. Almost like she couldn’t believe I would feel that way for her. Her fingers twitched at her sides, and for a second, I thought she might reach for me. But she didn’t. Instead, she just stared, her throat bobbing as if she was swallowing down whatever she wanted to say.

“I think today during our therapy session proved that I’m incapable of keeping things strictly platonic between us now. Especially since I know the sound you make when I kiss you right below your ear.” I lifted my hand and let my fingers slowly caress the spot I was talking about, and her breath hitched. “I can’t be trusted to not want to text you throughout the day and eventually invite you over for dinner. And then I’ll want to hear that laugh of yours and tease you until you get that fiery look in your eye that tells me you want to simultaneously smack me and kiss me at the same time.”

She gave me a shaky smile. “You’re right. We need to go back to being strangers. That will probably be the easiest.”

I nodded, even though everything in me screamed that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be between us.

I shoved my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t reach out to her again and watched as she took one last glance around my apartment. My chest felt tight, like someone had grabbed hold and squeezed, but I kept my face neutral. I had to. If I let myself break now, she might break too—and this was already hard enough.

She swallowed, finally meeting my eyes. “I never meant for any of this to happen,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I exhaled, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I know.”

We stood there for a few more seconds before she finally moved around me and headed back toward the front door.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob as she turned back and looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

My throat worked as I swallowed. I wasn’t sure if she was only apologizing for ending things, but part of me felt like she knew me well enough that watching someone else walk away was just another reminder of all the people who had left before her.

“I get it, Piper. I do.” I let out a low, humorless chuckle, shaking my head. “Heck, I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who jeopardized your career. I never meant to put you in this position.” My hands twitched, aching to reach for her, to hold on. But instead, I forced them deeper into my pockets, anchoring myself. “Maybe this isn’t forever,” I murmured. “Maybe this is just temporary.”

Her eyes looked sad when she answered. “Maybe.” She gave me a small nod. “Goodbye, Zeke.”

My chest rose and fell in one deep, steadying breath. “Bye, Piper.”

For half a second, she hesitated, her hand tightening on the doorknob. But then she turned it, opened the door, and walked out.

I stood there long after it closed behind her, staring at the empty space she’d left behind.